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Chapter 17: In Trouble
publish date:
2026-09-03 19:13:53
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Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies Chapter 55: Thank Me?
“Because they aren’t just your children, Maximilian—they’re my body!”My voice shattered against the cold plaster, echoing into the suffocating quiet of the master bedroom. I pushed against his chest, my hands trembling as they met the solid, unyielding heat of his suit. He didn’t budge an inch, standing like an iron pillar, but his eyes—dark, storm-tossed, and raw—flinched as if I had struck him with a blade.“I went alone because I needed one second to process this without your overwhelming presence suffocating me,” I gasped, hot tears spilling over my lashes. “I went alone because I was terrified, Maximilian. I sat on that cold examination table, staring at those tiny shapes, and I ... I almost asked her to end it.”The air left the room in a sharp, collective gasp.Maximilian’s entire body went rigid. The color drained from his sharp jawline, leaving him looking paler than I had ever seen him. The broad shoulders that carried the weight of an entire criminal empire slumped by a fr
Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies Chapter 54: Personal Notes
“You’re late, Emery.”The voice cut through the stillness, smooth, low, and laced with a quiet lethargy that was far more dangerous than an outright shout.Maximilian stood at the top of the grand marble staircase, his dark suit jacket discarded, the top buttons of his white shirt undone, and a glass of amber whiskey resting loosely in his right hand. His dark eyes locked onto mine, tracking every twitch of my jaw, every unsteady breath that rattled through my chest.“I took a walk,” I replied, forcing my voice into a calm register as I unbuttoned my heavy coat. “I told you I needed fresh air.”“A walk that required a two-hour cab ride?” He descended the stairs slowly, his leather dress shoes making no sound against the thick Persian runner. “You’re a terrible liar when you’re nervous, sweet girl.”“I am not nervous.” I snapped, my hand instinctively tightening around the strap of my bag as he reached the bottom step. “Can I not leave this house for a few hours without being interroga
Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies Chapter 53: Termination
“Listen,” Dr. Aris murmured, her fingers adjusting the ultrasound dial as the monitor flickered back to life. “Just listen, Emery.”The heavy click of the machine echoed through the quiet clinic room, followed immediately by a sharp static hiss. Then, out of the white noise, a sound emerged.Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.It was impossibly fast, like the rapid fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings or a tiny wooden drum beating at a frantic, desperate pace.“That’s the first one,” Dr. Aris said, her voice dropping into a soft, reverent whisper. She shifted the transducer slightly across my skin, a fraction of an inch to the left. “And here ....”The audio channel crackled again before splitting into two distinct, overlapping rhythms.Thump-thump, thump-thump... thump-thump, thump-thump.Two frantic, rushing beats, distinct yet synchronized in the tiny space of my womb, echoing through the speakers like a furious, beautiful storm.A sharp gasp hitched in my throat, and before I co
Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies Chapter 52: Two
“Before you say anything else, Emery, look at the screen.”Dr. Aris shifted the monitor an inch closer to the edge of the examination bed. The dull hum of the machine suddenly felt deafening, cutting through the sterile room like a warning siren.I didn’t want to look. I wanted to pull my coat around my shoulders, stand up, and run out of the clinic before any of this could become real. But my eyes traitorously moved toward the dark, grainy display.“You see this single gestational sac here?” Dr. Aris pointed a small plastic stylus at the screen, indicating a distinct, tiny dark circle framed in white. “That is what I showed you a moment ago.”“Yes,” I rasped, my throat feeling as though it were lined with glass. “One sac. Four weeks.”“Now watch.”Her fingers danced across the keyboard, magnifying the image until the pixelated black-and-white static filled the entire screen. The doctor dragged the crosshairs over to the far edge of the tiny dark space, tracing a faint, delicate curve
Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies Chapter 51: A Lot of Anxiety
The double red lines burned into my retinas like a fresh scar, sharp and unmistakable against the sterile white plastic.“Emery, I’m giving you three seconds before I break this door down.” Maximilian’s heavy palm struck the solid wood, his voice sharp enough to slice through the sound of the running water.My heart slammed violently against my ribs. In a split second of pure, unadulterated panic, I grabbed the test strip, wrapped it in a wad of tissue, and shoved it deep into the bottom of my handbag beneath a compact mirror and a pack of mints.I turned off the faucet, unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled the door open before he could take an axe to the frame.“What is wrong with you?” Maximilian stood in the doorway, his tie loosened, dark eyes scanning me from head to toe with rapid, ruthless precision. “Why was the door locked?”“I was feeling nauseous, Maximilian. I wanted five minutes of privacy,” I said, my voice dangerously steady despite the hurricane tearing through my chest.
Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies Chapter 50: Dangerous Habit
“If you stare at the ceiling any longer, you’re going to burn a hole through the plaster.”Maximilian’s voice, low and thick with sleep, rumbled against my shoulder before I even felt him stir. His arm, heavy and warm where it lay draped over my waist, pulled me an inch closer into the curve of his chest.For the first time since this gilded nightmare began, I didn’t tense. I didn’t shrink away, search for an exit, or construct a mental armor of spite. Instead, I let my eyes flutter shut, exhaling a slow, quiet breath into the sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains.“I was thinking,” I murmured, tilting my head back just enough to catch the dark, unguarded warmth in his eyes.“A dangerous habit.” A faint, rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his thumb began a slow, mesmerizing circuit over my hipbone. “Care to share?”“No.” I turned in his embrace, resting my palm flat over the steady, comforting thud of his heart. “You’ll only use it against me.”“Emery,” he whispere
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